Page 72 of The Spinster and Her Rakish Duke
“High praise indeed,” Samantha observed, squeezing her sister’s arm affectionately. “And well-deserved, from what I’ve seen of him.”
They walked in silence for a moment, following the winding path that led through a display of vibrant tropical blooms. Finally, Jane spoke again, her voice soft with uncertainty.
“Do you think… that is, would it be terribly improper if I… encouraged his attentions?” She glanced at Samantha, blue eyes wide with vulnerability. “After what happened with Adam, I wouldn’t wish to see you hurt again by my association with one of Ewan’s friends.”
Samantha’s heart clenched at the reminder of her past humiliation, but also at her sister’s thoughtfulness. “Oh, Jane. Ralph is nothing like Adam. And more importantly, I am nothing like the woman I was then. If his affections are sincere—and I believe they are—then you have my full support.”
Relief flooded Jane’s features, followed quickly by a smile of such genuine happiness that Samantha felt her own spirits lift in response. “Thank you, Sam. Your blessing means everything to me.”
Before Samantha could reply, a commotion from the direction of the fountain drew their attention. Guests were turning, some with expressions of alarm, others with barely concealed amusement, toward what appeared to be some sort of disturbance.
“Oh dear,” Jane murmured, peering through the crowd. “I do hope that isn’t?—”
“Percy,” Samantha finished with a sigh, already moving toward the scene with swift determination. “Come, we’d better investigate before Ewan hears of it.”
They arrived at the fountain to find Percy standing beside Miss Waverly, both of them dripping wet, while a cluster of horrified onlookers gathered at a safe distance. The young viscount was gesticulating wildly, water flying from his sodden sleeves as he attempted to explain whatever misadventure had led to their current state.
“—merely leaned in to examine the extraordinary pattern on the leaf she was describing,” he was saying as Samantha approached, “when I lost my balance and, well…”
“And took me with you into the fountain,” Miss Waverly finished, though to Samantha’s surprise, there was no anger in her tone—only a sort of resigned amusement. “A most unconventional botanical demonstration, Lord Stonehall.”
Percy’s face was a study in contrition. “I cannot apologize enough, Miss Waverly. I assure you, my intent was purely scientific, not…”
“Not to create a spectacle that will be the talk of London by nightfall?” she suggested wryly, wringing water from the hem of her gown.
“Precisely,” he agreed earnestly, then paused as her words registered fully. “Oh. Yes, I suppose it will be, won’t it?”
To everyone’s astonishment—including, it seemed, Percy’s—Miss Waverly began to laugh. Not the polite titter of a society miss, but a genuine, unrestrained laugh that transformed her composed features into something radiant. “At least it will be a more interesting story than the usual on-dits,” she managed between chuckles. “Much more memorable than Lady Ashworth’s new bonnet or Lord Gillingham’s political ambitions.”
Percy stared at her in wonder, as if seeing her truly for the first time. “You’re not angry?”
“Oh, I’m quite put out,” she assured him, though her smile suggested otherwise. “But I’ve always found that life is too short for prolonged indignation over accidents. Besides,” she added with a hint of mischief, “this particular specimen of water lily is actually best observed from this vantage point.”
A slow, delighted smile spread across Percy’s face. “Miss Waverly, you are a woman of extraordinary understanding.”
“And you, Lord Stonehall, are soaking wet and causing a scene,” came Ewan’s voice as he materialized at Samantha’s side, his expression a mixture of exasperation and resigned acceptance. “May I inquire as to how you managed to end up in the fountain when I expressly instructed you to engage in normal conversation?”
Percy turned to his uncle, water dripping from his hair. “It was in pursuit of botanical knowledge, Uncle. Miss Waverly was explaining the fascinating structure of this Amazonian lily, and I merely?—”
“Demonstrated your usual grace and restraint?” Ewan suggested dryly.
“Actually, Your Grace,” Miss Waverly interjected with surprising boldness, “Lord Stonehall was showing genuine interest in my explanation. The… immersion was purely accidental.”
Samantha watched with growing amusement as her husband’s stern demeanor softened slightly in the face of the young woman’s defense. “Be that as it may, I believe both you andmy nephew would benefit from dry clothing. Percy, escort Miss Waverly to her mother at once, then find Lord Tenwick. He’ll see you home.”
As Percy offered his arm to Miss Waverly with uncharacteristic dignity, despite his sodden appearance, Samantha heard him murmur, “You didn’t have to defend me, you know. My uncle is quite accustomed to my disasters.”
“Perhaps,” the young woman replied, just loudly enough for Samantha to catch, “I find your enthusiasm rather refreshing. Most gentlemen of thetonare so concerned with appearing proper that they’ve forgotten how to be genuinely interested in anything.”
Percy’s beaming smile could have illuminated the entire garden.
As the pair moved away, followed by whispers and sidelong glances from the other guests, Samantha turned to Ewan with raised eyebrows. “Well, that was unexpected.”
“Indeed,” he agreed, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. “Though perhaps I should have anticipated something of the sort. Percy does have a talent for creating memorable impressions.”
“And it seems Miss Waverly appreciates that quality,” Samantha observed thoughtfully. “Perhaps your nephew’s unconventional approach to courtship may prove successful after all.”
Ewan snorted softly. “Success through disaster was not precisely the strategy I had in mind.”
